


as i am

by whimsicott



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Cat Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Modern Era, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-12-31 14:51:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21147506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicott/pseuds/whimsicott
Summary: The cat cafe next to his workplace has never bothered Caspar. At least, not until today.AU where Caspar is a personal trainer at a gym and Ashe is the neighboring cat cafe’s employee.





	1. Chapter 1

Ninety-nine percent of the time, Caspar likes his job.

Being a personal trainer suits him well. He loves talking about diet and exercise so getting paid to do it is a natural fit. Plus, his workplace pays relatively well with a decent benefit plan - like everyone else in the world, Caspar would like a raise (it’d be nice to get that protein shake he’s been eyeing up) but he doesn’t _need_ one. 

He’s got a small but steady saving going even on top of his utility bills. He’s renting a two-room apartment with his best friend Linhardt which works out perfectly after he got used to finding Linhardt sleeping on the doorway. He doesn’t have to travel far to work. He doesn’t even have to travel far for leisure, considering his leisure is his training and he can do that for free at his workplace.

Although if he’s allowed to make some sort of complaint - he has to say that the gym’s neighbor is a little odd.

It’s not everyday you get a gym right next to a cat cafe, but that’s the case here. _Black Eagles Fitness_, with its bold red and black color scheme stands right next to _Blue Lions Cat Cafe_, decorated cutely in varying shades of blue. On his way into work, Caspar would sometimes catch a glimpse inside the cat cafe through its large window - a dozen cats surrounding happy patrons and smiling employees. It seems peaceful and relaxing, a far contrast to the challenging environment of the gym.  
But it doesn’t matter. It’s just their neighbors. 

Their cats never disturbed them, never caused any issues.

Well, until now.

“Hey!” Caspar calls out. He runs through the staff locker room of the gym, wearing only a towel around his waist. “Hey, wait up!” 

For the first time, a cat managed to sneak into a gym. An orange and white cat with long fluffy fur that shed all over Caspar’s black gym bag.

That’ll probably make Linhardt sneeze when Caspar gets home later, but that’s the least of Caspar’s problems right now.

Because the damn cat stole his fucking underwear.

Caspar is pretty confident of his speed and strength and flexibility and all that, but it still isn’t easy to catch up with the cat, especially in the narrow back area of the gym. If there was someone else here, maybe they can help him.

But maybe it’s better that there's no one else here after all considering Caspar is as naked as the day he was born - perhaps an exaggeration considering he’s still covered with a single piece of cloth - but a small exaggeration at most.

He stumbles as the cat jumps over some broken equipment left in the cramped halls. 

The bell on the cat’s collar that rings every time the cat moves seems almost obnoxious, like it’s the cat’s way of taunting him without a single meow.

“Damn it,” he mutters before scurrying after the cat again, holding on tightly to his towel.

Then he sees it.

An open door.

The back door of the gym leads to a small yard area with their generator. Sometimes, he and the other trainers would use the place hang their towels and such.

Someone must’ve left the door open and that’s how the cat snuck in. 

And that’s how it’s going to get out. Great. But he needs the cat to give him back his boxers first. They’re not expensive boxers, but they are the only ones he brought to work today and despite what others might think of him, Caspar is _not_ the type to go commando.

The cat looks at him, almost tauntingly before sneaking out the door. 

Caspar clicks his tongue, picking up pace as he continues his pursuit.

There’s usually no one in the yard area anyway, he thinks. And it’s closed off enough that it doesn’t face any major streets. It’s fine. 

And even if it’s not he needs his damn boxers back.

He throws the door open, slamming it towards the wall.

“There you are Konyaku!”

That’s not Caspar’s name. And that’s not Caspar’s voice, sounding through the yard softly.

Caspar freezes in place as he realizes, someone else is there.

On the other side of the fence stands a young man about his age, boyish and silver-haired and kind of cute, but more importantly, he’s holding on to that damned cat and therefore Caspar’s boxers. 

“What do you have —“ the boy starts, then his eyes widen. He looks up, slowly.

His eyes met with Caspar’s, his mouth gaping open.

“Uh,” Caspar starts off clumsily as he scratches the back of his head. “Those are mine.”

Then, he feels the towel sliding off his waist.

Before he could catch it, it falls down completely, exposing all of him to the cool autumn wind.

And worse: exposing _all_ of him to the other man.

He freezes as the other man’s eyes fall down - down his chest and down to his penis. 

It can’t get worse than this, Caspar thinks. Caspar almost says it out loud but his tongue seems to swell up inside him as heat flushes through his body. It’s not like he’s the easily embarrassed type, but this is surely enough to get even the most seasoned veteran in shameful behavior red. 

“I can uh,” the other man starts, and Caspar is barely registering that he’s wrestling the boxers out of the cat’s teeth. The other man is just as red and he’s trying his best to divert his sight away from Caspar, even if Caspar catches involuntarily glances from him as he fights with the cat. “I can. See that.”

He tosses the boxers over to Caspar — with stupidly good aim — and Caspar catches it with ease despite his embarrassment. He quickly dresses himself in the boxers, then he picks up his towel and puts it around his shoulders.

The other man is still there when Caspar has made himself a little more decent. At least, decent enough to make eye contact a little less awkward. 

Although the other man has seen, well, everything, so it might be too late.

Caspar clears his throat.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice louder than it should be. 

“You’re welcome...?” The other man says tentatively. “No, wait, I mean I’m sorry about Konyaku over here. He’s usually so well behaved.”

He sighs, ruffling the fur of the cat in his arms.

“Right, well,” Caspar says.

Now that he’s not so focused on being naked and humiliating himself, he can see his initial knee-jerk reaction is right: the other man is kind of cute. Freckles and green eyes match his silver hair, and he wears the blue cat cafe apron over a black sweater, itself slightly covered in cat hair.

“I should,” Caspar finds his words. “Go.”

“Wait,” the other man says. 

What could he want? His cat had already taken away Caspar’s dignity today. 

He walks closer to the fence, then digs something out from his apron pocket. He extends the card to Caspar.

Curious, Caspar takes a step closer, taking the card from him.

A free-one hour cat cafe session.

“As an apology,” the young man says, a sheepish smile on his face. 

“Oh,” Caspar nods. He’s never been to the cat cafe despite it being right next door. It’s not that he hates cats, but the idea of going to a place and paying just to sit around surrounded by them seems kind of pointless. 

But if it’s free, he supposes there’s no harm in taking it.

“Uh, thanks.”

“You can ask for Ashe when you come,” the other man says, then his smile grows a little wider. “That’s me.”

“Oh, I’m Caspar,” Caspar says. Then quickly - “you know, if you want to find me at the gym.”

“Got it,” Ashe replies with a small chuckle. “Well, sorry again about Konyaku.”

Caspar can’t exactly say no problem, because a cat stealing his underwear is definitely a problem. So he nods.

“I’ll see you around,” he says.

And as Ashe turns to walk back into the cafe, he replies, waving the cat’s paw at Caspar.

“Konyaku will be waiting.”

Caspar gulps.

He’s not sure if he’s up for another round with that particular cat. 

Even if he wouldn’t mind seeing Ashe again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am projecting my dream cat cafe onto this fic.
> 
> Beta’ed by Atan. Thank you!!

The Blue Lions Cat Cafe, as it is called, is one of the many businesses owned by the multi-million Blue Lions Group. 

It’s more of a mascot business than anything though. 

The idea is that it’s cute to have a cat cafe when you’re called Blue Lions, though Caspar has a hunch that cats are second choice for the CEO of Blue Lions Group because they can’t possibly have a lion cafe.

That being said, the Blue Lions Cat Cafe is famous. Its clean and soothing interior and their careful care of their animals make them the top-rated cat cafe on a great number of listicles. The cafe’s central location makes it easily accessible, particularly to their target audience of early-twenties to early-thirties professionals.

These are all information Caspar can get from googling up the cafe’s name, reading up reviews and the Wikipedia entry on his workplace’s neighbouring business for the first time ever. 

Maybe he should have been more curious before, considering he walks past the cafe everyday and some of his clients are regular patrons who would speak highly of it. But he hasn’t, because up until this point, the Blue Lions Cat Cafe was inconsequential to his life.

Well, up until that damned cat stole his boxers anyway.

Caspar sighs, looking up to the cute sign above the shop as he holds on to the coupon Ashe handed to him. His eyes dart towards the window, wondering if he can catch a glimpse of Ashe. Instead, he sees a cheerful ginger-haired girl looking like she’s singing to the cats.

It’s been a week since the incident with the boxers-thief cat. 

In the past week, Caspar kept wondering if Ashe would walk through the door of the gym and ask for him. Ashe hasn’t.

But last night Linhardt pointed out to him, with an exasperated sigh, that a gym isn’t exactly a place non-members walk into casually.

While a cat cafe is. Especially if you’ve a free one-hour coupon.

Caspar doesn’t usually hate it when Linhardt is right, because if he does they can’t stay friends, not with how often Linhardt says the right thing.

But this time, he did make some half-hearted defensive statements that were quickly reduced to incoherent mumbling.

In the end, Caspar isn’t a hundred percent sure why he wants to see Ashe again. Ashe was the only human witness to possibly one of the most humiliating days of Caspar’s life, and being short and ready to pick a fight, humiliating situations are pretty commonplace for Caspar.

Caspar just wants to fix his image in the other man’s head. Yeah, that’s exactly it. Somehow, it bothers him that someone in such close proximity to him has this image in their head of him naked and chasing after a cat. 

It shouldn’t bother him but it does and that’s it.

And he’s nervous, of course, because Ashe had seen his dick in the open. Or something. 

Caspar is not good at figuring out the reasons for the things he’s feeling. Straight-forward is always his go-to approach, and when things are a little messy, he tends to default to whatever seems to make the most sense, even if he knows that the explanation isn’t enough. 

Still, he takes a step forward towards the cat cafe, pushes through the heavy door and finds himself eye-to-eye with a girl with pale blonde hair.

“Welcome,” she says sweetly. “How may I help you?”

As he walks over to the counter, he sees that her name tag states that her name is Mercedes. 

“I want to uh, cash in this coupon,” Caspar says, waving the coupon at Mercedes. 

“Oh,” Mercedes studies him curiously, her smile unfazed. No, on the contrary, her smile grows wider. “Are you Ashe’s friend?”

“Wha-“ Caspar’s eyes widen. He wears his feelings on his face - this is something he knows about and isn’t shy with. But the girl seems to take great amusement from this as she chuckles.

“We don’t exactly have a promotion going on right now,” she says. “But Ashe said he gave his coupon to a friend as a sort of apology.”

Caspar isn’t sure if them meeting once and Ashe seeing him naked means they’re friends now, but he slowly nods anyway. He stands there awkwardly as Mercedes processes his coupon.

“And, that’s done,” she says with a smile. “Welcome to the Blue Lions Cat Cafe.”

She then hands him a board with cartoon pictures on them. A quick glance at the header on the board tells Caspar it’s the rules to this cat cafe. They’re illustrated cutely with large, clear font, but it takes Caspar by surprise. He did not expect a cat cafe to have quite these many rules. 

“Please give this a read,” Mercedes says sweetly. Though sweetly seems like the only way Mercedes can speak. 

“Yeah, of course,” Caspar says. He takes the board to read through the rules. Some of them are expected such as washing his hands before going in, putting his shoes in the designated lockers, some less so - like how the cats wear different scarves to designate their comfort level with humans. Blue for the most affectionate cats, yellow for cats who may be open to being touched and red for cats the guests should not disturb.

He remembers Konyaku wore a blue scarf last week. So that particular cat is comfortable with humans? Guess that explains how he gets so daring to steal Caspar’s boxers and run around the gym like that.

“I think I got it,” he tells Mercedes.

“We do have staff if you’re worried about anything,” she explains. “We’re all wearing blue aprons.”

Like Ashe last week, Caspar realizes. He nods in response to Mercedes.

Mercedes shows him to the shoe lockers. After putting in his sneakers into the locker just as he takes out the guest slippers inside, Caspar makes his way to the sink.

“Welcome!” A voice he knows greets him as he enters the cafe. Just as expected, Ashe is there.

The other man’s eyes widen slightly upon seeing Caspar.

His smile widening by much more.

“Caspar!” Ashe says, in a controlled yet happy voice.

“Hey,” Caspar greets in return. “I made it?”

“You did,” Ashe says. “Come on, take a seat, I’ll get you a drink - what would you like?”

“Glass of milk?” Caspar says, making his usual order - the beverage he pins his hopes of growing taller on despite being already twenty-one. “Cold.”

“Alright,” Ashe doesn’t question him - not even with his involuntary expressions like so many others have.

The space inside the cafe is open, white and soft blue being the prominent colors. The seats are backless, following the curves of the room and the cat trees and other toys. There are counters with cat food inside jars, buyable for a small sum of money. 

There are cats lounging around the cafe and others playing with each other, the guests or the toys left around. 

All the while, classical music plays throughout the cafe.

Caspar is out of the element. This cafe is the opposite of his gym. The Black Eagles gym is black and grey and red, with harsh, upbeat songs playing through all day long. This place is not meant to challenge anyone - it’s meant to be relaxing.

Makes sense why so many of his clients are also regular patrons of the cafe. It must be nice to have a quiet time here after hard training at the gym. 

Though, perhaps for the better, he sees none of them around the cafe today. 

But maybe Caspar thinks that too soon.

A meow catches his attention. Turning to the source of the noise, Caspar comes eye to eye with the bastard cat from last week.

“Konyaku,” he whispers the name under his breath like it’s the name of the devil himself. 

Konyaku the cat climbs up on the empty seat next to Caspar, then effortlessly, he fits himself between Caspar’s spread legs, making Caspar regret his man-spreading habit for the first time in his life.

“I see Konyaku found you,” Ashe says - says as if it’s a good thing - while he carries Caspar’s glass of milk on a simple wooden tray.

“Yeah,” Caspar replies, eyes glued on the cat and hoping he doesn’t do anything too dastardly even as he takes the glass from Ashe. “He sure did.”

Ashe takes a seat next to Caspar, rubbing Konyaku behind his ears.

Caspar meanwhile drinks his glass warily as Konyaku looks at him with _that_ face. It’s fine, he tries to reassure himself, there are his belt and trousers between Konyaku and his boxers this time.

“So, working at the gym huh?” Ashe asks. “How’s that?”

“I like it,” Caspar says. He forces his eyes away from Konyaku to face Ashe.

Ashe, at least, with those green eyes and freckles and smile, is less stressful to look at than Konyaku.

“I like to exercise and I think I’m pretty good at it, so it’s a good job,” he says, keeping his eyes on Ashe even as he feels Konyaku’s weight on one of his thighs. “How’s working at a cat cafe?”

“It’s great,” Ashe says. “It’s actually my part time job - I’m doing a masters and need extra cash - but it’s the best part time job I’ve ever had.”

“Masters? What are you studying?”

Ashe is a bit bashful at the question.

“Food science.”

Caspar smiles excitedly. That always shows on his face, Linhardt says, and he can feel it showing on his face.

“Really? That’s so cool! I mean, food science is related to diet and that relates to my job, so I read up on some stuff sometimes.”

Or rather Linhardt would quickly read through things and link him articles that seem interesting. But same difference really. 

“Oh!” Ashe looks excited back in return. He’s still softer around the edges, but that much is visible on his expressions as well. Caspar likes that. It’s easier to talk to people whose feelings can show on their faces. “Well, I’m currently analyzing popular food trends and how they impact people’s long-term diets. You know, like paleo, keto, that stuff.”

“I’m doing keto,” Caspar responds. Though he just started around last month. “It’s been good so far, though I went through a bout of keto flu for around two days, that wasn’t pleasant.”

“That’s pretty normal - two days isn’t bad at all,” Ashe nods, then, as if realizing something he blushes and laughs awkwardly. “Wait, you’re here to play with the cats, I shouldn’t keep you with talks like this.”

“No!” Caspar quickly says. The conversation with Ashe keeps him engaged enough that he sort of forgets about Konyaku using his thighs as a jungle gym. Now that Ashe stops he’s all too aware of the movement of the cat below him. He takes a glance at the cat, who looks more smug than ever. “I like talking about food and nutrition and stuff.”

“Maybe you can tell me more about how it relates to your job sometime,” Ashe says, he reaches down to the cat between Caspar’s thighs again, scratching behind Konyaku’s ears. 

Now that _really_ shifts Caspar’s attention to what’s right at his crotch. But okay, it’s not like Ashe doesn’t know what’s there.

He focuses on the conversation.

“Yeah, I definitely feel different since I started the diet,” he says. He pours himself into the words.

Linhardt generally doesn’t care all that much for exercise. He reads a lot of things, and would link Caspar anything pertaining to his interests, but Linhardt tends to zone out when Caspar talks about his training, unable to really keep up and isn’t interested enough to learn more. Of course, Caspar would talk to his clients and co-workers about his work, but Ashe gives a completely different perspective.

Not as a personal trainer or as someone trying to body-built or lose weight, but as someone interested in food sciences. Not in the setting of the gym, but right here in a space he thought he would be out of his element at. 

As he talks on to Ashe, he doesn’t realize how the sun has set despite the large windows of the cafe. His hand begins reaching for the cat, petting and scratching behind Konyaku’s ears in turn with Ashe. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” it’s a soft woman’s voice - Mercedes’ - that eventually cuts them short. “But it’s eight and we’re closing.”

“It’s — it’s what?” Caspar blinks rapidly.

Mercedes smiles softly. “It’s eight In the evening.”

And considering Caspar walked in at six - he’s been there for two hours.

Twice longer than his free one-hour coupon.

Konyaku mewls, sounding satisfied. This bastard cat definitely understands something.

“Oh,” Caspar lets out, still processing the information. “Yeah, I should go.”

“Sorry for keeping you here,” Ashe smiles apologetically. 

“I kept you away from your job,” Caspar mutters in realization, his eyes downcast to meet that of Konyaku’s. The cat is looking at him smugly - or at least that’s how Caspar would read it, even though he’s not an expert at reading cats.

“Thankfully there wasn’t any problem today,” Ashe says. “And getting our guests acquaintanced with the cat is part of my job! I’m glad you’re friends with Konyaku now.”

“Yeah,” Caspar clears his throat. He’s still not sure if friends is the right word here, but he stopped being so uncomfortable around Konyaku in the last two hours. Or at least, he’s comfortable enough to have Konyaku hanging all over him somehow. 

He gets up from his seat, Konyaku jumping off him as he does so. 

“Listen,” he starts. “Maybe next time, we can go out somewhere?”

He says all that quickly, before his brain can catch up to his lips. Ashe blinks at him, and this compels him to force on.

“If you want!” He continues. “You know, there’s that steak place I told you about.”

Ashe chuckles softly.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Yeah, that sounds good, I’ll give you my number?”

Caspar’s eyes widen excitedly as he takes out his phone, handing it to Ashe with the add new contact screen open.

“Definitely. We’ll set a time for it!”

“A date,” Ashe says with a smile.

A smile so soft and pure, that it masks the slight mischief in his voice as he hands Caspar’s phone back to him.

Mercedes clears her throat then, and the two boys turn to look at her.

“This is exciting,” she says, smile unfaltering. “But we do have to close up.”

“Oh shit,” Caspar says. “Right, sorry about that.”

Caspar follows Mercedes to the register, taking one last glance at the open space of the cat cafe. 

At the last glance, he sees Ashe holding up Konyaku, directing the cat to wave his paw at Caspar. 

That same motion as last week, Caspar realizes. 

That cat, always in between them.

“Come again,” Ashe says cheerfully. “And I’ll see you soon.”

Caspar nods, waving goodbye to the two.

As he pays for his extra hour, Caspar wonders if cat cafes are his scene after all. 

Or maybe, it’s just this particular one with that one bastard cat and Ashe.

**Author's Note:**

> Came up with this AU together with my friend Atan who did some [art](https://twitter.com/atanalerectida/status/1186970747601707009?s=21) for it too! Also, thank you Layte for proofreading!


End file.
